


Love Free

by Prim_the_Amazing



Category: Motorcity
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Dar Tennie Jenzen and Tooley got mentioned/cameos, Deluxians: what is poli am ori?, I can't believe I found an excuse to squeeze my OCs in for just a moment, Multi, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Polyamory, Polyburners, Present Tense, sorry Red, yeah Red suuuper died off screen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-13 06:06:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 19,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9109897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prim_the_Amazing/pseuds/Prim_the_Amazing
Summary: "Good news, Commander," Mister Kane says, and Mike's at total ease now. "You're one of the first in your year batch to get their spouse match!"Mike is not at total ease now."Uh," is all he can manage to say, wide eyed and wide mouthed. "What?"-Human beings are irrational when it comes to love and emotions in general. Of course they can't be trusted to make such important decisions as who they marry, just see how well that's gone in the past! Luckily, KaneCo's always happy to help.





	1. Congratulations, you're getting married!

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by livelivefastfree's excellent posts about marriage in Deluxe.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane doesn't order Mike to demolish a bunch of buildings with civilians still inside them, but he DOES have some good news for him.

"There are people still in those buildings, sir!" Mike reports urgently. 

He sees Mister Kane open his mouth on the hologram as if to bark at him sharply, a habit he tends to fall into when he's tense; Mike doesn't think he realizes how nervous that tone can make some people. But Mister Kane doesn't mean to intimidate people, he's just naturally large and loud and it can already be daunting for anyone to be standing in front of such a larger than life figure such as Mister Kane. 

But instead of barking, Mister Kane seems to pause, taking a second, longer, more thoughtful look at him. Mike's words finally sinking in, perhaps? 

"... How surprising. Thank god you noticed, Commander Chilton. This is why I promoted you." He looks closely at Mike as his shoulders slump with relief and chest swells with pride. "You prevented a devastating mistake today. Report back to Deluxe." 

"Yes, sir!" Mike responds. He may not have accomplished the mission, but he still managed to do something good today; he's happy. He turns to tell Jenzen to get the troops and equipment in order to take back to base. 

"Just a moment, Commander Chilton," Mister Kane unexpectedly interrupts him. Mike turns back towards the hologram, remembering suddenly that he hadn't been formally dismissed, abashed. "Leave most of the troops and equipment down there for now, I have some other missions in mind for them so long as they're down there; might as well not waste the trip. Nothing suitable for your rank though, just take with you a small contigent of your most trusted cadets to accompany you back up to civilization. I'll find a more fitting mission for you. Dismissed." Mister Kane turns to face someone that's not on Mike's side of the hologram that he can't see. "Cadet Tooley! You said you wanted to prove yourself? Well, an oppurtunity just came up--" 

The holoscreen blinks out. Mike's a little dissapointed; he'd been looking forward to his first mission as a commander. But Mister Kane said he'll find something for him soon. For now, he turns back to Jenzen and gives him a list of his top ten most trusted cadets to help escort him back up to Deluxe. 

Motorcity is a dangerous, barbaric place, after all. 

* * *

Mike's been a commander for almost a year now, and he's been at the head of many missions. Nothing to do with tearing down buildings still full of innocent civilians though, of course not. KaneCo would never do that on purpose. 

Mike's been called in to Mister Kane's office, and he's wondering what it's about. He just came back from a mission. Is he going to get another one, so soon? Well, a good soldier doesn't need any rest, according to Mister Kane, but it's not as if Motorcity's a big enough threat to warrant it at the moment. The slow but steady defeat of the criminal underground city is going well. 

When Mike enters Mister Kane smiles at him, and Mike smiles back without even thinking about it. Mike's glad when Mister Kane's in a good mood, he can get stressed so easily if things aren't going as perfectly as possible. Kind of like Chuck with a program. ("The smallest mistake can snowball into a huge catastrophe before you even know it, Mikey!") 

"Good news, Commander," Mister Kane says, and Mike's at total ease now. "You're one of the first in your year batch to get their spouse match!" 

Mike is not at total ease now. 

"Uh," is all he can manage to say, wide eyed and wide mouthed. "What?" 

Mister Kane chuckles paternally and stands up from his desk. "I reacted the same way when my wife proposed to me. The most wonderful things in life can be so startling. Her name is Julie Kapulsky, and you'll be perfect for her. You're strong, loyal, polite--" 

Mister Kane's drawn up a picture of 'Julie Kapulsky', a beautiful young woman who does not have a blond hair or freckles or-- 

"Sir," Mike chokes, and doesn't know what to say. KaneCo has a board and Department of Marriage and forms and perfect algorithms designed so that everyone will get matched up with their most compatible match. They're needed, people can't just choose their spouse on their own. Mike remembers all the horrifying stories he saw in those videos in How Things Were Before KaneCo class when they came to the marriage chapter. Spousal abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse, sexual abuse, gaslighting, murder-suicide, divorce, families torn apart, happy marriages grown bitter and resentful and even violent because people are irrational when it comes to love and emotions and they don't make good choices. The list goes on and on. The KaneCo marriage algorithms and Department make good choices. Julie Kapulsky has been objectively judged as the most compatible person in all of Deluxe for Mike. There is no one he will get along better with, no one he can love more, no one--

Mike had been planning on dropping a word in Mister Kane's ear about Chuck in only a few weeks, before it became too late. Before they filled in their form, sent it in, and hoped for the best. Spousal match ups took all year. He didn't think he'd be one of the first ones. It's barely Month One. He'd thought-- he and Mister Kane got along so well-- he and _Chuck_ got along so well, surely they'd do well in the algorithms even if they weren't the _most_ compatible--maybe Mister Kane could pull some strings--

But it's too late now. Rejecting your KaneCo chosen and approved spouse is not legal. KaneCo knows best.

It's too late for them. 

"Thank you, sir," Mike says quietly, and Mister Kane gives him a firm pat on his shoulder and a beaming, proud smile. 

 


	2. Is she gonna say yes? (She doesn't have a choice)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julie's getting married to Mike Chilton. This is news to her.

Julie stares blankly up at her father's smiling face for one long moment before she says flatly, "I want to marry Claire." 

"You're marrying Mike Chilton," her father says, as if she just hadn't heard him properly. 

"I've known Claire for as long as I can remember. I've never even spoken a word to Mike Chilton," Julie says slowly, hoping that this will get through her father's self-absorbed skull. 

"Yes, and Claire's been a great friend for you. A plus genetics and family history, that's why she was chosen as your playmate. But she was chosen to be your _friend_. The algorithm--"

"As if the algorithm had anything to do with this!" bursts out of Julie, and she takes a deep breath to calm down, because if she turns this into a shouting match her father will absolutely win. Shouting until he gets what he wants is what he _does_. "Mike Chilton's your right hand man. I've heard you bragging about him at the dinner table more than once. You just want me to marry someone who you know will follow your orders."

"I want you to marry the best Deluxe has to offer, and Commander Chilton is that. Top of his class, youngest--"

"Youngest commander ever, impeccable record, blah, blah, _blah_. I've heard it before, dad! But I don't want to _marry_ him. I wanted to apply together with Claire next month. We get along well enough that I bet the Deparment of Marriage would have approved us, no algorithm--or rather _Abraham Kane_ \-- chosen spouse who I've never even talked to before needed. And..." She pauses, blinking rapidly at the thought. "And I thought, if they didn't, that you'd maybe pull some strings for us. Because you know how close we are." 

"Oh, Julie-bear," her dad says, voice thick with sympathy, and he hugs her, and yes, she's won him over-- "The system we have in place knows best, sweetheart. You'll be happy together." 

Julie breaks out of the hug roughly and turns around, wiping at her eyes. Why does she keep doing this, why does she keep hoping that he'll improve, show her that she can change him? She's only ever dissapointed. 

Her dad puts a large hand on her shoulder, warm and heavy. "You'll meet him tomorrow, okay? The Wedding isn't until Month Twelve, that's plenty of time to get to know him better. I'm sure you'll get along, Commander Chilton is very personable. It's in his file. Do you want to read his file, sweetie?" 

"No," Julie says, her voice thick. "I don't want to read his file. I'm going to my room." 

She leaves. 

* * *

Julie doesn't go to her room. And she doesn't go to Claire either. Doesn't call her. Just _thinking_ about her makes her eyes sting sharply. She's going to be so upset. They'd planned on issuing their form together, they'd talked about it with hushed excitement, hands clutching each other's, leaning so closely towards each other that their breaths washed over each other's faces, glittering, dark eyes locked. 

She was supposed to marry Claire. 

Julie goes down to Motorcity again. 

She finds one of the hidden entrances and runs through the pristine white shafts until they turn dirty and gray and dark, puddle water splashing as she runs. She activates a hologram that changes the colors of her clothes to make her stand out less down there. She makes sure she isn't crying. 

Julie gets drunk. 'Drunk' is a wonderful double edged invention by Motorcity, and Julie has only ever been it two times before even though she's been sneaking down to Motorcity for over a year. Motorcity has a lot of inventions like that. Motorcity is so much more than what her father tells all of Deluxe that it is. Julie loves Motorcity. Julie wants to live in Motorcity. Julie could marry Claire down in Motorcity. 

Claire does not like Motorcity. She thinks it's stinky and gross and has only been succesfully persuaded to come down here with Julie three times. She would not come down here to live with her, Julie thinks. Her father would tear Motorcity apart trying to find her, convinced that she was being held there against her will after he couldn't find her anywhere in Deluxe. If she told him that she actually wanted to be there he would say that she was brainwashed. And then he would 'fix' her. 

So, Motorcity is only a sometimes thing so that Julie won't just start screaming in the middle of another conversation with her father because they're not even vaguely on the same page, or while she's watching another news broadcast that no one else can seem to read between the oh so horrifying lines of. 

'Drunk' is an even rarer sometimes thing. But god does she need it now. 

Julie dances. There's so many lights down in Motorcity, and they're all so different. These ones are all different colors that you aren't allowed to wear up in Deluxe, and they're _flashing_. She's so dizzy. 

"I'm going to vomit," she tells the buff guy she's dancing with. He nods seriously and takes her hand and leads her outside into the alley outside the night club. This is not safe. Julie should be struggling. 

The buff guy holds her long, long hair back as she vomits on the ground, helps her not get any on her clothes. What a nice, buff man. 

"There, there, Julia," he says, patting her back comfortingly, which is not quite right. It's pretty close, but he's called her something different every single time he's said her name tonight, Julie thinks fuzzily. Julie doesn't particularly care, at the moment. 

"I need to get home," Julie sighs. She doesn't want to be home. But she needs to be home. Before she's missed. 

"Don't worry, Janet, you're in the safest hands in all of Motorcity! Texas' hands have mastered every weapon in the world, and can also totally bride carry a girl five times your weight at the same time, ka-chaw!"

"Thanks Texas, but I can get home on my own," Julie says, even though she isn't entirely sure of that. She can't let a Motorcitizen go up to Deluxe, anyways. What a disaster that'd be. Julie laughs, but even she can tell it comes out kind of ugly. 

Texas walks her most of the way anyways, letting her lean on him with only some preening. Eventually Julie has to lie and say they're there before he realizes that she doesn't actually live in Motorcity. He makes her open her holoscreen and put in his number and says that she's a rad dancer, although not as rad as Texas (Julie decides to take the compliment), and if she wants to dance again she should totally call him.

Julie thinks maybe she will.  

 


	3. Have fun on your date! Yes, you HAVE to go on a date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike tells Chuck that he's getting married, and then goes on a date.

Chuck knows something's wrong the instant he looks at Mike's face. Chuck's known him since before he'd lost all of his baby teeth, and Mike's poker face was already nothing to write home about. Mike looks... devastated. Chuck's scared. Chuck is scared so easily, but now he's really, really scared. Mike's never looked like this before. 

"... Mike?" he says uncertainly, and Mike does a full body flinch, eyes shooting to where Chuck is sitting at his desk reading as if he hadn't noticed him before. Chuck is not calming down. "Did your mission go really badly?" he asks anxiously. 

Mike opens his mouth. Closes it. Swallows. Clears his throat. "It went fine." 

Chuck stares at him. "Jesus, that was bad, Mikey." 

"It did-- the mission went fine, Chuckles." Mike runs a hand through his hair. "I just. I've got something to tell you." 

"Okay?" Chuck says, and he wishes that Mike would just come out and say it, because for every moment he stalls his mind comes up with worse and worse scenarios. 

Mike paces. Chuck grits his teeth and taps his fingers impatiently on his thigh. 

"Mister Kane," Mike starts hoarsely, and oh no, did Mike get fired? But that's so dumb, Mike's so good-- "I've... gotten my spouse match up." Mike's eyes dart toward Chuck's face and he winces. "I'm sorry--"

He doesn't have to say that Chuck isn't the spouse. Of course. Mike had been so sure that they'd get to be together, but in the back of his mind Chuck always knew that he wouldn't make the Mike Chilton cut. Of course, of course, of course. 

Mike takes a step towards Chuck, eyes shining, and Chuck isn't sure what he's about to do, what either of them is about to do, when Kane's face suddenly springs into existence in place of Mike's, hologram eyes staring piercely into Mike's real ones. Chuck shrieks. 

"Mister Kane!" Mike gasps and hurriedly salutes. 

"Commander Chilton," Kane says as Chuck tries to stave off a heartattack. "I've arranged a meeting between you and your future wife tomorrow, as she expressed a desire to get to know you. I'll message you additional details about the date." And just like that Kane's face flickers out of sight. 

Date. Just like that. One day they're together, planning to fill out their marriage form, and the next Mike's going out on a date with a girl who's definitely better than Chuck. With a girl KaneCo has said he's going to marry. 

There's an oppressive silence in their shared pod. 

"I'm going to bed," Chuck says when he's sure that his voice won't break, even though it's far too early to go to bed and he isn't tired in the least. 

He doesn't know how to tell Mike not to when he crawls into bed with him, hugging his back to his chest. He doesn't want to. 

This is all he's going to get. 

He hopes Mike doesn't notice when he cries. 

* * *

Mike goes to the meeting to see Julie Kapulsky. It's only fair that she wants to get to know her future husband, even though Mike would much rather be back at home with Chuck, enjoying his leave, trying to cheer him up. 

Their... date is at a private table off in the dark corner of a restaraunt, very fancy. Mike comes five minutes early. Julie comes five minutes late. Maybe that's meant to indicate that they balance each other out, somehow. The algorithms are always right. There have been no divorces since they were instituted. (Divorces are illegal.)

He looks at her. She looks different from her photo. Hair mussier, makeup more smudged, eyes red and bleary like she just woke up and then had a cry. Mike hopes she didn't cry, that she's in the same situation as him. He can't bring himself to ask. 

She looks at him, and he wonders what she sees. 

"Hi," Mike says. 

"Hello," Julie says. 

They both sit in silence until a waiter comes and asks for their orders. They both get throat cubes and water. Mike doesn't really get why they have to specify that. He decides to muse so aloud when the waiter's gone, because he's having a hard time thinking of what to say and this is beyond terrible. 

"Some anachronism from the past, I suppose," Julie says. "That's often what it is, when there's some odd social ritual that doesn't really make sense. D-- Mister Kane doesn't put a whole lot of thought into the minutia of things. More focused on," her voice becomes gruffer and deeper for a moment, " _chrushing Murdercity underneath his heel_." 

Mike snorts involuntarily even though he gets a feeling Mister Kane wouldn't appreciate it. 

And then there's another silence as Mike tries to think of something else to say, and the waiter comes back with their food. Mike picks at it, no appetite whatsoever, and notices that Julie winces a little bit every time his fork clinks against his plate. 

"You okay?" he asks. 

"Just a headache," she waves her hand as if to shoo his concern away. 

"Do you want to go get a Mild Pain Reliever?" Mike asks. Chuck can get some terribly vicious headaches sometimes. 

Mike tries to stop thinking about Chuck. 

"No thank you, those things make me feel awfully woozy. That's the last thing I need right now." 

Mike nods in agreement. He's born many sprained bones and bruises before without pain reliever because he prefers the pain to that nauseating feeling. He opens his mouth to say so, because he's really grasping for straws to keep any kind of conversation going here, but then Julie's holo implant activates. 

"Julie!" a woman their age says brightly into the screen. Square bun with purple highlights, dark skin, artfully applied makeup-- "Where areee you? Did you forget that manicure you promised me?" 

"Oh god," Julie says, eyes wide, and then groans and presses her wrist against her forehead, grimacing. 

"Oh _god_ , " Square Bun echoes with feeling. "I know _that_ look. No wonder you forgot! Julie you really need to stop drinking that filth they've got down--" 

"I'm not alone, by the way!" Julie says. "Just FYI, if you suddenly felt like saying something you wouldn't want to talk about in public." 

Square Bun grumbles. Julie looks through her holo screen at Mike apologetically, and then back to Square Bun, somehow even more apologetically. "I'll come over, okay, Claire? And we can do pedicures too, as an apology." 

Claire squeals for a second, clapping, before she seems to remember herself and stop abruptly, shooting Julie a sheepish look. Julie has her face down on the table, hands tangled in her hair, groaning again. 

"Well, see you then," Claire whispers loudly and winks. The call ends. 

Mike guesses that Julie gets these headaches on a somewhat regular basis. She looks up at him, blinking groggily. "Sorry, I--" 

"No, I totally get it!" Mike says, eager for an excuse to get back to Chuck and try to cheer him up and feeling only somewhat guilty about it. Julie doesn't look like she's up for a date today anyways, and he thinks that she'd much rather be spending time with her friend, just like him. 

Just like him? Mike files the thought away to think about later. 

Julie looks relieved, and they only shake hands when they part ways. 

"That," Mike sighs to himself when it's finally over, "could somehow have been worse, I guess?" 

He doesn't like how doubtful he sounds. 


	4. Fun times with friends and conspirings about romance!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julie finally tells Claire about what her father's done now, and the Deparment of Marriage has another meeting.

Julie drives her pod slowly toward Claire's. She should have told her last night, the second she found out, but instead she went out and had shots with a stranger who turned out to be named after a state that's a crater now. Great BFF material, that's Julie. 

She tries to stop thinking about Claire for just a bit, which unfortunately means thinking about Mike. Julie groans. Yes, he'd seemed nice enough. Incredibly awkward, as could only be expected when meeting your future wife for the first time while they're hungover as hell. Her head had been too much of a throbbing mess to notice anything else about him. 

She still doesn't want to marry him. 

The pod docks, and a little screen pops up to tell her that she's been invited into Claire's living space. Julie enters, and Claire greets her with a glass of water, drawn curtains, dimmed lights, and a reproacheful look. God, _that's_ what Julie wants to marry.  

"I love you," Julie groans, and Claire giggles. It hurts her head to hear, but warms her heart. Wow, _sappy_. Julie only ever gets like that when she's sad. Julie downs the glass and flops onto Claire's bed. It's so nice and soft. 

Julie reluctantly blinks her eyes open (when had they closed?) and sits up when she feels Claire sit down next to her on the bed, returned with the glass now full again. Julie takes it with a thanks but doesn't drink any more, staring down into the water. 

"Sooo," Claire says. "Your dad being especially terrible or something? You only drink that crap when he pulls some extreme shit." 

That's a good opening. Julie should take it. 

Julie just groans and leans her head on Claire's shoulder. Claire leans back into her without a word. 

Julie wants to preserve this. This peace, this happiness, this status quo. But it's already gone, ruined by her father, and Claire deserves to know. Now. Before now. 

Julie bites her lower lip, smudging her lipstick. 

"Hey," Claire says, low. "You okay? Seriously." 

"I--" Julie says, and her voice cracks, embarrassingly. She wanted to be calm during this so that she could be there for Claire, comfort her. Julie's already had her pity party down in Motorcity. 

Claire rubs Julie's back and she takes a deep breath to explain. 

And then she does. 

* * *

"Next." 

"Dutch Gordy, first son of Diane and Daryl Gordy. Good stock, no illnesses. High IQ, shows a special talent for hardware. All tests indicate bisexuality, so he'll be sexually compatible with either a husband or a wife. The only hitch, and it's a bit of a big hitch, is that he's got repeated artistic infractions. Vandalism, graffiti, _ugly_ art, that sort of thing."

"A spouse will be a good thing for him. Another emotional anchor that depends on him, holds him back, wants him to be well, that he doesn't want to dissapoint or worry." 

"Someone that doesn't encourage him, definitely. Someone obedient, fearful. Someone who would never dare." 

"Someone vulnerable, that he'd feel guilty over getting hurt." 

"Common interests are needed though, to encourage an affectionate bond that will make the spouse more exploitable for us." 

"Definitely not art." 

"Definitely." 

"Someone with high IQ as well, also slated to be a scientist?" 

"Yes. But let's not give him a wife, I don't want to risk his disobedience being heritable. He has a younger brother, Dar, who's taking to the rules of Deluxe far better. He can contribute to the gene pool."

"Husband, high IQ, likely scientist, obedient, fearful, vulnerable." 

"I'm compiling a list." 

"... Want to order food in?" 

"Sure, I'll get an intern to get us some throatcubes." 

"List compiled. What about this one? Anxiety disorder, certified genius, shows special skill in software. And most importantly, no predilections towards art or disobedience."

"Perfect. Next one." 

"Wendy Wick, only daugher of Will and Jenny Wick. Poor eyesight, but nothing else notable healthwise. Seems to be exclusively interested in women. Mild mannered..."

 


	5. Passing love notes! SO romantic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck and Dutch are informed of their future marriage.

Dutch stares at the message in his inbox. _Sender: KaneCo Department of Marriage._

You only ever get a single message from the Department of Marriage in your life. Dutch breathes in shakily and opens the message, eyes scanning over the information quickly. Husband, Chuck, he doesn't know him from before, in the education program to go into software expertise. Adress, holo number. 

Well. Dutch had been prepared for this. He didn't think it would happen quite so early on in the year (it's only Month Two), but he's kind of relieved. Otherwise, he'd be tense for months and months, obsessing over who it could be. And of course he knew it'd be a stranger, or at least probably one. He barely has any friends, no one wants to hang out with someone with so many repeated infractions. And so of course he hadn't been dating someone he'd be hoping the Department of Marriage would accept. This is fine. None of this is a surprise. 

Dutch should message them. Right? But, like, right away? Dutch woke up early today, if he's unlucky his fiance's (wow, weird word to think) going to wake up to both the message from Dutch and the one from the DoM in his inbox. That might be kinda' overwhelming. And needy? But waiting might be rude. This is, again, his _fiance_. Dutch worries his lower lip with his teeth. He doesn't know how he's supposed to behave, here. There aren't any rules for the small things like this. And he can't just ask his parents, they're the lucky kind of couple that were already dating before the DoM approved them. 

 _To hell with it_ , Dutch thinks, and writes a quick message (keep it short and sweet, less oppurtunity to mess it up that way) before grabbing some of his art supplies and heading out to pass some otherwise fretful time. Maybe nothing too big, this time. He's not all that eager to meet the person he's supposed to live with for the rest of his life with a black eye or something. 

* * *

_Hey, this is Dutch. I hope we'll get along all right. Want to meet up and talk some time?_

Chuck blinks at the message from the stranger in absolute incomprehension. He sits fully up from his bed, hoping this'll wake him up some and a sudden epiphany will clear this all up for him, like _oh this must be Dutch from that class project I was assigned yesterday!_ No such luck. 

It must just be a misdialing, Chuck decides, and closes out of the message to check out the rest of his inbox. 

He actually screams before he throws both of his hands over his mouth. 

"Fffwhat?" Mike snorts, blinking up at him from his own bed on the other side of the room. 

"N-nothing!" Chuck says in that terrible high pitched way that happens when he's lying and panicking about it, which is almost all of the time when he's lying. "Go back to sleep!" 

This is far from the first time Mike's been woken up by Chuck screaming about something that startled him, so he actually takes him at face value and flops back into his bed. He's snoring softly in no time. 

Chuck looks at the unopened message from DoM and whimpers. He has a sinking feeling he knows what that earlier message had been about. 

 


	6. Yay, another pair of lovebirds!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck and Dutch meet each other.

Chuck is beyond grateful that Dutch just sent him a message instead of _calling_ him. As it is, he spends the entire day thinking over his response, typing it in and then deleting it over and over again until he's satifised. Of course, he immediately has regrets once he hits send and wants a second chance, but it's too late now. That message was the labor of several hours of intense thought, anyways. It's fine. Probably. Maybe. Oh god. 

He'd agreed to meeting up and proposed a time and place, because what else could he do? Of course he has to meet his new ( _gnn_ ) future spouse. He can't just ignore him for as long he can get away with like a _total weirdo_. Ha. Ha. 

Chuck just hopes that the time and place he'd suggested wasn't weird for some reason. Tomorrow wasn't too early, right? He'd initially wanted it to be at least a week later, but he'd decided in the end that that would probably weird Dutch out. 

Chuck continues to resist the urge to rip his hair out by the roots. 

"Tough piece of coding?" Mike asks from the other side of the room. Chuck glances out of the corner of his eye to see that Mike's doing push ups while shirtless again. Nice. 

Chuck should probably tell him what he's stressing out about. Not nice. 

"Yeah," Chuck says, because he's a fucking coward and a terrible (boy?)friend. 

Mike grunts sympathetically, but continues to smoothly lowers himself up and down, steady like a machine. So nice. 

Chuck shakes his head and forces himself to stop looking at Mike. Mike's marrying someone else. Chuck's marrying someone else. 

And that's that. 

* * *

Dutch rubs at his black eye self consciously. So, he may have, in the heat of the moment and all, kind of made more of a wall wide mural than a quick little doodle, despite his intentions to restrain himself. The inspiration had been flowing! 

The bruise stings. He kind of wishes he'd been able to stop himself, even if the piece had ended up looking great, in his very humble and unbiased opinion. It's not like it mattered anyways, it would be painted over and back to being nothing but a blank white wall now. Such a waste. 

Dutch walks into the little restaraunt Chuck had told him about. He scans the crowd and spots him quickly. Tall as hell, which is cool.  

He walks over to him and taps him on the shoulder. Chuck yelps and fumbles with his drink some, startled. 

"Sorry, my bad," Dutch says with an apologetic smile. He holds out his hand. "I'm Dutch." 

"Ch--Chuck. Nice to meet you," he says, sounding kind of low key strangled. He shakes his hand. Kind of damp, but firm. 

He sees Chuck peer at his black eye curiously from behind his bangs and Dutch excuses himself to go get himself a drink to maybe forestall that conversation for just a bit. It'd be nice to get more than a hello out before he had to say "oh yeah I get regularly beat up by Security so you've got that to look forward to for the rest of your life." 

Dutch has the sneaking suspicion that he is maybe not that much of catch. 

Once he gets his drink he turns around from the counter with it in hand, eyes searching for the table that Chuck's settled down on. He spots him sitting by one of the windows, the sunlight slanting in and hitting his yellow hair, lighting it up like gold, freckles suddenly visible in the better lighting, mapping his face like constellations. 

 _Nice_ , Dutch thinks dimly before clearing his throat and heading over to his fiance. 

 


	7. A lovely double date in the park!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julie and Mike go out for walk in the park together and happen to overhear a pretty significant conversation.

Mike waits for Julie. She's late again. She seemed to be late pretty often, but he doesn't mind. He just takes the opportunity to get some paperwork finished. He had been getting to know Julie for a couple of months now, and she didn't seem to have a whole lot of flaws, and perpetual tardiness wasn't that bad in his book. She was smart and funny and tough and beautiful. He could see why they'd been matched up if he liked her so much after only knowing her for such a short time. A painful twinge still went through him whenever he thought about not marrying Chuck, though. It was just that now he _also_ got a painful twinge whenever he thought about not marrying Julie either. There was no win-win scenario.

"Sorry!" Julie exclaims, slowing down to halt next to him, having apparently run to their meeting point. He suspected she'd been doing some exercise before even that though, as Julie was in pretty good shape, yet she was sweaty, panting, and flushed, her clothes rumpled and hair not as neat as usual. "Sorry for being late again, I know, I just got so caught up--"

"It's all right," he says, and reaches out to rub away a strange dark smudge on her cheek. Probably just some makeup or something, girls were allowed more colors than usual when it came to that stuff. 

Julie blinks wide eyed up at him, and Mike snatches his hand away from her face, embarrassed. 

"Sorry, I didn't think-- you had something on your face." 

"Oh." A hand went up to her cheek where his had been only a moment ago. "Thanks." 

They started walking. Just a walk while talking was the plan for todays date, although Mike was hoping for maybe some hand holding as well. 

"So," Mike fishes for a topic of conversation. "Were you out jogging or something?" 

"Actually," Julie pauses for a moment before shrugging to herself. "I went dancing with a friend." 

"That's nice." Mike smiles, thinking about Julie being twirled around by someone to one of the Songs, her hair getting absolutely everywhere. Maybe they could go out dancing sometime.

"Yeah, it's fun for stress relief," Julie says. 

"You're stressed?" Mike asks, looking more carefully at her, as if he'd be able to see whatever was worrying her in her eyes. 

"Er, well," Julie says, as if she hadn't expected him to ask her that. "Things are just kind of... awkward between me and Claire right now." 

"Are you fighting?" 

"No, no." She shakes her head. "Stuff is just tense. Don't worry about it." She says it in a way that makes Mike think that she wants him to just drop it for now. He drops it for now. 

Things had been kind of awkward between him and Chuck as well, ever since the match up. Was it the same way for Julie and Claire, for the same reason? God, he hopes not. 

Julie slips her hand into his. Mike smiles, unpleasant thoughts dying down for the moment. 

* * *

Julie sighs. She really should set an alarm or something before she goes down there to, well, relieve stress. It's just that she can't stand the thought of cutting off all contact with Claire, but unfortunately all contact with Claire is pretty stressful in itself. She doesn't blame her, Julie thinks, but they've been both having a hard time of meeting each other's eyes lately. Thankfully she has no such problems with Texas, who is pretty easy to start a conversation with at any moment, even if he never seems to get her name quite right.  

Mike squeezes her hand, and she looks over at him and shoots him a smile. Mike isn't hard to start a conversation with either. He really isn't so bad at all, although a part of her wans to deny it just to spite her father. She still wants to marry Claire. 

They'd settled down on a bench together, and were for the moment just barely keeping a lazy conversation going. 

 "... the first mission I was in charge of was only a year ago, actually," the guy on the bench behind them says in a rather braggy tone. There's another couple behind them, a blond guy and a brown haired girl. Mike pauses mid word, and Julie looks at him curiously, raising an eyebrow. 

"My, that's so young!" the girl says, sounding very impressed. The blond guy did admittedly sound pretty young, although Julie doubted he'd be happy to hear that. 

"Well, my commander ended up being called away. He couldn't handle it. Some other guy was in charge of the clean up, and he did a pretty poor job, but _I_ was in charge of the actual demolishing." 

"Mike," Julie scolds. "You're squeezing my hand too tight, it hurts." 

Mike turns towards her, and it's as if he's seeing right through her. 

"Jenzen," he says. 

"What?" Julie asks. 

"Did you say my name?" the blond guy asks the brown haired girl. 

"No?" she says uncertainly. 

" _Kane_ ," Mike snarls, and it is about at that time that Julie decides that it would maybe be for the best if she led him somewhere a little more private. 


	8. Try and make a good first impression when meeting your fiance's friends!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julie tries to help Mike calm down.

By "somewhere private" Julie had initially thought of her pod, or maybe Mike's. Preferably her's. Then she decided against it, considering that it was all the way on the other side of town, and she needed to get Mike somewhere private _now_. He was being far too loud for her tastes. And nerves. But she didn't really want to take him to his pod either, seeing as he had a roommate who might be there now for all she knew. Mike seemed to trust Chuck well enough, but he seemed kind of worryingly trusting in general. Julie hadn't exactly spent hours getting to know Chuck, but she'd met him on a few occasions, and on all of those he'd seemed kind of stiff. There could be many reasons for that of course, but it wasn't something that encouraged bonding and learning to trust each other. 

And considering the downright treasonous things Mike's been muttering nonstop since they left the park, she doesn't really want him around anyone she doesn't trust with her (his) life. 

There is one person in the world who she does actually trust with her life. It is not her father. 

Shushing Mike all the way, holding tightly onto his hand, she heads in Claire's direction. 

* * *

Claire looks up from where she's painting her nails to the holo screen that's just popped up in front of her. The call isn't accepted automatically, which tells her who it is faster than reading the name on the screen would. She'd gone into settings and fixed that up for all of Julie's calls ever since the match up. She's not really sure why she did it. But she did it. 

Claire carefully presses 'accept' on her holo screen, mindful of her still wet nails. Hey, it's not like she's _ignoring_ Julie or anything. She just... needs a bit of a warning now before she has to face her. 

"Claire!" Julie exlaims urgently once her face pops up on the screen. Claire's magnificently styled eyebrows raise to her hairline at the outburst. 

"What? Is it your dad?" It usually is, when she's worked up. 

"No. Well, maybe. Probably." She shakes her head. "It's Mike." 

Mike. The _fiance_. Claire hasn't had the _pleasure_ of meeting him yet. 

"What _about_ Mike?" Claire asks. She pauses, as half formed thoughts come to her attention. "He didn't _do_ something, did he?" 

"Not yet," Julie says grimly, and it's then that Claire finally notices that Julie's walking very quickly, just on the verge of not running. "Can we come to your place? Please. He's going to get himself in a lot trouble if he's doesn't cool his jets _fast_." Julie turns around to look at something that isn't captured on the holo screen. "Shh! Someone's going to hear you!" 

What Claire had assumed was just background noise becomes louder, to the point that she can hear distinct words. "-- _lied_ to me! Just sent me away and then did it anyways behind my back like it didn't matter so long as I wasn't looking--" 

"Shh!" Julie repeats, looking around nervously, and the ranting lowers in volume some, but it definitely does not stop or even slow down. It sounds pretty heated. 

"Uh..." Claire says in a way that she hopes will encourage sharing of information. 

"I have no idea," Julie very unhelpfully informs her. "But can we come over? Please?" 

"Sure," Claire says very reluctantly with a grimace. Ugh, why'd she just agreed to that? She's terrible. 

"Thank you," Julie says with feeling, which Claire definitely feels like she deserves here. And then the holo screen winks out. 

Claire sits there for a while, thinking about what she should do. She decides that she should finish painting her nails while she can, seeing as the half finished manicure look super isn't for her, and she really has no idea what's going to happen when Julie and Mike get here. 

Mike. He'd seemed like... a character, to put it mildly. She'll get to see what kind of character specifically in just a bit, she supposes. 

She tries to concentrate on her nails and not the thoughts spinning around in her head, going "maybe this is what happened? maybe this is what's going on?" She doesn't think she'll be able to accurately guess. 

Her nails come out looking great, as usual. She's not really in the mood to let herself feel satisfied about it. 

Her pod asks her if she will allow access to one Julie Kapulsky and-- Claire just presses yes. 

When they come in Julie's holding Mike's wrist, but she doesn't really feel jealous as it's less a romantic sort of handholding and more of a frazzled mother pulling her moody kid around handholding. Claire still finds herself assesing Mike as soon as he walks in, though. Neat nails, kind of dorky bangs that matches Julie, fit as hell. Bleh. Claire would have prefered it if he'd been ugly as sin. 

At least that scowl seems to be twisting up his handsome features some. 

"Hi," Claire says in a not very friendly tone. 

Mike doesn't even look at her before he launches back into his tantrum. "I'M GOING TO PUNCH KANE IN HIS STUPID FACE!" 

Julie winces at the volume, but Claire's pod is sound proofed, thank god. That remark would've gotten him thrown into a cell for at _least_ a week. 

"Wow," Claire says. "What's he done now?" 

"What HASN'T he done while I wasn't paying attention!?" Mike asks her. She'll just go ahead and assume that it was rhetorical.

"Mike," Julie starts, hands held up placatingly. "I know what he's like. I _know_. But punching him is only going to get you in trouble, and you can't just run around shouting about--" 

"He-- he ripped down all of those buildings with all of those--" 

And then Mike starts crying, which is terrible. 


	9. Sleeping over at your fiance's house! So forward!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julie suggests something to Mike.

It had taken more than a couple hours before Julie had judged that Mike was safe to take out in public. At this point he's so tuckered out from all of the shouting and crying and explaining that he's basically swaying on his feet. Julie apologizes to Claire and thanks her again before dragging Mike out of there. Dealing with Mike and Claire at the same time feels kind of disconcerting. 

Finding out for a fact that her father was a mass murderer is... _upsetting_. She tries not to think about it, because she doesn't want to explain to Mike why she's crying too. 

She starts to lead Mike towards his pod before he shakes his head. She looks back at him and raises an eyebrow. 

"I... don't want to see Chuck right now," he says quietly. 

Julie understands. She takes him to her place. It's normal for fiances to start sleeping together and even moving in together way before the Wedding. No one will think anything of it. 

Mike stands a little awkwardly in the middle of her room before she gently shoves him in the direction of her bed. He collapses down onto it. 

"I have to call Chuck," he sighs. "He'll worry." 

"Okay," Julie says, and goes into her bathroom to give him some privacy. She looks at her reflection. She looks very self possesed, not like she learned something earth shattering at all, not like she feels like she's standing just on the very edge of a towering cliff in the slightest. Keep it together. She has to keep it together. 

If her father calls her now, she'll snap. Julie goes into settings and makes it so that her father's calls aren't automatically accepted any longer. He'll think that's strange, once he notices. She'll have to remember to change it as soon as she's calm again. 

She looks at the picture of her father next to his name and holo number in her contacts list. 

She tries to at least cry quietly. 

* * *

"You're spending the night?" Chuck's voice cracks, and Mike ignores it while Chuck flushes. 

"Um, yeah," he says, and rubs the back of his neck, his face warming. It hadn't occured to him what it'd sound like before Chuck had brought it up like that. 

"Oh, okay," Chuck says, sounding kind of... sad. Mike feels like a heel. "I guess I can hang out with... someone else." 

"Yeah," Mike agrees, even though he doesn't know about any other friends Chuck has. Maybe he made new friends! That'd be nice. 

"Bye then," Chuck says, and gives him a little wave. Mike feels a smile pulling at his mouth and waves back. 

They disconnect. Without Chuck there distracting him he can feel his pounding headache returning, and the reason for it rears back up in his mind. He can't believe he forgot about it for even a second. He groans. "I should've told him." He thumps the back of his head against Julie's soft matress. 

"Told who what?" 

Mike starts, and looks up towards where Julie's entered the room. She looks like she took the opportunity to spruce up some, wash her face and reapply her makeup. She looks calm and steady, but, like, in an _intense_ way, like she's planning on hitting every target in the middle of an active battlefield. 

"Chuck. About the demolitions," Mike explains. 

"Are you sure he wouldn't tell someone about it?" she asks. 

"I'd stake my life on it," he tells her earnestly. 

"You would be," she says grimly. "We both know now that Kane won't hesitate to kill even over inconvenience. I've never heard about KaneCo killing dozens--maybe even hundreds--of people over _renovations_. Which means that he doesn't want people to hear about it. And Kane must always think that he's getting what he wants, or else he gets angry fast." 

Mike can recognize the truth in what she's saying, but why does she seem to know him so well? She catches the curious look he shoots at her. "I'm pretty high up for a management intern; I get to talk to him sometimes." She smiles humorlessly. "Or more like he talks _at_ me. Anyways, you wouldn't just be staking _your_ life on that. You'd be staking Chuck's and Claire's as well. And mine," she adds belatedly. 

"... I'm sure he wouldn't tell someone about it," Mike says. He doesn't like the idea of putting Chuck, Julie, or even Claire in danger at all. But he really does trust him. 

"Are you sure he wouldn't accidentally let it slip?"

"Chuck's smart." 

"But is he calm even when someone's asking him very pointed questions and things don't look good?" 

Mike thinks about Chuck in any crisis situation ever. "Er." 

"Just think about it," Julie says. "Don't tell him only because you feel obligated, tell him because you feel obligated _and_ because you think he can take it." 

"I'll think about it," he concedes, and he sees her rigidly perfect posture relax just slightly. He hadn't noticed that she was that tense. 

She sits down on the edge of her bed and Mike sits up, getting his legs out of her way. They sit in silence for a while. 

"I don't know what I'm going to do the next time I see Kane," he admits. 

"Me neither," she agrees glumly. 

"I don't know if I can even keep following his orders." What is he going to do now? He's followed Kane's orders all his life, just more directly in the last few years. 

Julie looks at him thoughtfully for a long moment before she slowly speaks up like she's thinking very carefully over her words and like the thoughts are still forming in her head as she speaks. "What if... you didn't? Or... Mike, you know about internal sabotage, right?" 

He blinks at her. "You mean... spies?" 

Julie smiles sincerely for the first time since he told her about the demolitions. She looks _wicked_. 


	10. Showing off your hobbies and exchanging gifts!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch shows Chuck something and Julie gives Texas a call.

"Hey," the hologram of Chuck says softly. Dutch appreciates it. It's late, Dar's probably asleep. He doesn't want to wake him up. "Do you want to come over?" 

Dutch blinks slowly in response, and the words _it's late_ repeat in his mind. 

"Sure," he says, and swallows dryly. He shouldn't assume anything, of course. Chuck and him aren't even that close yet. They'd found one thing they had somewhat in common--a certain overlapping of skills when it came to coding and engineering, with weaknesses and strengths on both sides (personally, Dutch likes the way they seem to cover each others weak spots and bolster each other when they work on something together, even just a theory or a hypothetical)--and latched onto it, filling the otherwise silent, awkward moments with ideas and inspiration. Dutch enjoys it, although he kind of wishes that they talked about other stuff just a little bit. Sometimes. That's all. But hey, they've just met. They've got the rest of their lives to get to know each other, after all. "I'd like that," he adds on belatedly. 

He grabs his bag without thinking and just goes. His family won't even notice that he's gone, probably, it being so late and all. And if they do notice that he's gone then they can just call him. (Although Dutch knows that they'll just assume that he's out getting up to no good again and feel resigned and worried. He feels guilty about that, he does. But he needs to do art. And he's not getting into trouble now, he's sure he can make it to Chuck's place before curfew comes.) 

He makes it to Chuck's place before curfew. 

He leaves his bag behind on the floor by the entry way, and smiles at Chuck when he looks up at him from a holoscreen covered in numbers. Dutch has noticed that Chuck codes near constantly whenever he's not doing something else, as if he just has to keep his mind and his hands occupied at all times. He also codes when he's nervous. 

"Hey," Dutch says. And then, spur of the moment, impulsive and dumb (but that's what he is so it's okay), "Do you want to see something?" 

"Okaaay... ?" Chuck draws the word out uncertainly. Fair. He'd worded that unnecesarily vaguely. 

"Hang on." Dutch runs back out of Chuck's room and gets his bag, carries it with him. He sits down on the floor once he gets back, facing Chuck as he digs around in his bag for what he's looking for. He finds it and brandishes it triumphantly in the air for a moment, before handing it over to Chuck with only the tiniest moment of hesitation. Chuck holds it as carefully as Dutch could have hoped for, almost reverently, rubbing a thumb over it seemingly without thought, wonderingly. 

"It's paper," Chuck says. "I haven't seen this stuff in years. Where'd you get this? You should have stopped getting it, at your age." 

"I found a way." If you lack air, if you lack food or drink, you'll damn well do your best to find a way to it. Dutch had found his way back to paper before even a week had passed since he wasn't allowed to use it any longer. ("Drawing is for children, Dutch. Grow up.") "What do you think about the drawing?" he prods. 

Chuck finally seems to actually focus on what's _on_ the paper instead of just the paper itself. Dutch is happy with the piece, himself. It's of people, based off of people he's seen on the streets, but warped. Too many and too few fingers by turn drawn on hands in a way that makes it look intentional, real. Hair that you can _see_ is the wrong texture, more reminiscent of fur. And Dutch's favorite: eyes. Too many eyes. Eyes where there shouldn't be eyes. Cat's eyes.  Eye's that melt, eyes where it looks like someone's iris and sclera has been smudged into each other like touched wet pain, until they're completely inseperable. The woman in the center of the picture, her face the most clearly exposed of all, almost like she's looking directly into a camera. He'd chosen to make her face one huge, bloodshot, piercing eye. 

It's a busy drawing. Dutch is happy with it. 

"It's incredible," Chuck says, hushed, and something inside of Dutch loosens. He realizes that he'd been waiting for Chuck to throw it away, call him a kid, a deviant. To call Security on him. Unhealthy art and theft of paper. What had Dutch been thinking, showing someone he barely knew that? 

(He hadn't been thinking. He'd been hoping.) 

"Do you want to see more?" Dutch says, and why is his heart beating so hard? They're not even doing any of the stuff he'd been hoping for when he got the call. 

"Yes," someone says for the first time in Dutch's life. 

* * *

Texas grins when Julie appears in a hologram in front of his face. 

"Hey, Juliet," he says. 

"It's Julie," Julie says, which is how she always says hello. See, Texas isn't the only one who talks in third person or announces himself! 

"So, you starting to crave another dose of daddy Texas?" Texas flexes. "Texas can understand."

"Actually, I was thinking we could do something different besides dancing today." 

"So you've finally seen the light and want to go on a ride in Stronghorn! You're gonna' _love_ driving, especially Texas' driving--" 

"I was thinking more along the lines of, like, _talking_ ," Julie interrupts him. 

"Boring," Texas says dismisively. 

" _And_ ," Julie holds up a USB stick so he can see it, "maybe you could pass something along to your mentor for me?"

"Jacob?" Texas asks, picking a bit of ear wax out of his ear. 

"Old guy, makes great food, owns a super cool car but of course not as super cool as yours, taught you how to drive and stuff, took you under his wing, and," she stresses the next few words, "a 'huge nerd with a hate boner for Kane a mile long', I think your exact words were? You've kind of mentioned him a few times." 

"Yeah? Why do you want to give him a nerd thingy?" Texas gasps, eyes widening. "Oh no! You're a nerd too!"

Julie smiles. "No, but I _do_ happen to have a hate boner for Kane at least ten miles longer. I've got some information here that, if your mentor used it correctly, could deal him a pretty devastating blow. Bluepapers for his bots, future attack plans on Motorcity ranging from in only a week to years later. He could spread it as far he wants, sell it to the gang leaders or give it away for free." 

Texas thinks about it for one long moment. Julie's eyes sharpen on him while she waits for his respone. 

"... Can we still also go dancing tonight?" 

She says yes (of course) once she's done cry-laughing. 


	11. Sketching your sweetheart and sharing secrets with your BFF!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike and Chuck tell each other something.

Dutch hasn't done street art in a week. It's not a record breaking streak for him, but it's still unusually long. 

He watches the way Chuck bends towards his screens as he peers at the the strings of code scrolling on them. He knows it's bad for his spine, but it's fun to sketch the curve of his back. Dutch has never been able to draw someone like this, them staying still for him as he tries to get every detail just right. Dar's too energetic to stay in the same position for hours, and he hasn't even considered risking asking anyone else he's ever met until now. 

Chuck likes to sit still for hours and just code and code, worrying away at some problem until he solves it in a flurry of brilliancy. Either that or he gives up on it for a few hours to sulk. It's the perfect arrangement for Dutch, anyways. He's got a great view of Chuck from where he's sitting on Chuck's roommates bed, Chuck sitting on his, pushed to the opposite wall of the small room. He wishes it was easier to convey the way the light from the screens spill on Chuck's face with just a pencil. 

Dutch puts down the pencil and stretches his wrist. Chuck looks up. 

"Another one done? Can I see?" 

"Sure, man," Dutch says, like always, and stands up to hand it over to Chuck. 

He makes art because he has to make art. It's in his bones. He makes art for himself, because he enjoys it. But there's also a part of him that _needs_  other people to see it, to appreciate it, a part of him that drives him out onto the streets with spray cans even though he knows how it's going to end for him every single time. 

Chuck sees. He appreciates. And he doesn't report him. And that part of Dutch that makes him go outside and draw relaxes and lets him stay out of trouble a little longer. 

* * *

"Hey," Mike says, more falling onto than sitting down on his bed, exhausted.

Their attack on Motorcity tonight went terribly, just as planned. It's the first one that the gangs down in Motorcity have been completely prepared for, and he could tell that all of the other commanders were utterly baffled. Mike made every tactical decision that made sense considering that of course the Motorcitizens had no way of knowing the weaknesses of that new bot, and of course they couldn't know that Smith's squad would be heading for a pincer attack. Mike behaved perfectly. It's not _his_ fault that the gangs seemed to be prepared for their every move, seemed to even somehow have hacked their comm lines, which was impossible, of course. 

It was his and Julie's fault. It really is so easy to get all of that information when your a commander. He's helped come up with a fair share of it. 

Mike wonders if he's really doing the right thing. 

"What's that?" he asks, blinking groggily over at Chuck's bed. There's something thin peeking out from underneath Chuck's matress. 

Chuck looks at him blankly, and then looks in the direction of where Mike's looking. He yelps and then scrambles to tuck it entirely underneath his matress. "Nothing! It's nothing!" 

Mike is suddenly not as sleepy any longer. "No, seriously." 

Chuck looks at him in that panicky way that's not supposed to be directed at _Mike_ , and then he slumps in a resigned sort of way. "I, uh... I got matched up, by the way." 

Oh. 

"Oh," Mike says. 

Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later, wasn't it? 

"His name is Dutch. We're... we're getting along." 

"Okay," Mike says. 

"... It happened a few weeks ago." 

"What?" 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before now, Mikey." Chuck's doing that thing with his hands, like if he rubs hard enough he can rip the skin off and that'll somehow make him feel better. "I just-- I don't know--"

"It's all right," Mike soothes without thinking, and it is, because a match up is big, and he knows the way that Chuck can get twisted up and nervous about big things, and no one makes good decisions when they're nervous. And Mike's been keeping secrets too. 

 _Chuck's telling you his secrets now_ , he thinks, and for a moment the guilt that's been gnawing at him for days swells monstrously, and it feels like he's carrying a boulder. Mike's lost faith in Kane, and Chuck doesn't know. Mike's stolen and given away important intel to Deluxe enemies, and Chuck doesn't know. Chuck's been engaged for weeks, and Mike hadn't known. Mike can feel a gap that hadn't been there before growing wider and wider between them. He doesn't like it. He doesn't want it. 

"I..." he says, mouth dry.  _Don't tell him only because you feel obligated, tell him because you feel obligated_ and _because you think he can take it._

Well. Chuck had just shown him that he could keep a huge secret like a match up from his own roommate and best friend for weeks, hadn't he? It feels uncomfortably like grasping for straws, but Mike lets him convince himself. 

"I'm a spy," Mike says. "It has to do with the demolitions." 

"What?" Chuck asks breathlessly, and Mike starts to explain. 


	12. Congratulations on your graduation!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane makes some decisions and Chuck graduates.

"This is," Kane growls, "UNNACCEPTABLE!" He hits the table with both of his fists as he shouts the word, and glasses of water jump and in some cases fall. 

The employee sitting closest to him shakily adjusts his glasses. "It's the only way this makes sense, sir. We have a traitor with a very high clearance level. It's the only way they could have gotten that information to Motorcity, and the only way Motorcity could have won that battle--" 

"Not to mention how they've been shooting down our patrol bots like flies--" another employee cuts in. 

"Not sure that's quite how the saying goes--"

"--and actually _regaining territory_ ," the employee finishes their interruption with a glare at the one who interrupted them in turn. 

"... Is if they had information of a very high clearance level," the wilting first employee concludes. 

Kane hates these people so very, very much. Motorcity, too. 

"How much is ruined?" he asks for now. Punishments later. 

"Well, it depends on how much information the traitor gave them. We know that they had all of the information regarding last weekends attack, and I do believe they have our current comm frequency--we'll have to change that, now--and they probably have the bluepapers for our patrol bots and the one through three Kanebot makes considering footage from our last fight. Those were the only kind of bots that were used in the latest fight, however, so they may very well have information about more of them." 

"Well then, schedule attacks for every kind of bot we have and we'll see how well those scum do!" Kane orders. 

"Do you think it's possible that they know about more of our future attacks?" one of his employees asks another. He's urgently shushed, but Kane leaps on it like he's scenting blood. 

"Excellent point, Mr. Brown! Cancel all future plans--" There are stifled groans before he glares them into submission. "From now on, everything we do will be planned only hours in advance. And in the meanwhile, you can all think about how you can prevent this kind of information leak from happening again." 

His employees look at each other. "What kind of job would you have to have to steal information like that?" 

"Something strategic in combat. A leader position. A commander, or an admiral, maybe?" 

"Put those people under scrutiny, then. Give them restrictions." 

"Yes sir!" 

* * *

_Congratulations on your <EARLY> graduation! _

_These are your viable career options, going off of your academic achievements:_  

Chuck let's his hand hover over the box that he'd been planning on pressing for months now. Something that would let him work on stuff used in Deluxe, projects about how to make the chargers for all of the buildings in Deluxe safer and less prone to overheating already bubbling in his mind. He could have even worked together with Dutch on it, maybe. It's the safe, obedient future that Deluxe wants for him. 

Chuck thinks about the drawings burning a hole underneath his matress. What's another crime committed, really? He'd be doing both of them for the sake of people he loves. 

( _People_ he loves, not person, and he loves, he _loves_ \--) 

 _"I want to help,"_ he'd said three days ago, once Mike had stopped talking and had looked at him like he could ruin Mike with a single word. 

Chuck chooses the career that will let him work on machines that _attack_. 


	13. Hubby goes to work!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike learns about some new rules at KaneCo and then has a chat with Julie.

DENIED, the holoscreen tells Mike. 

"Do you need some help, sir?" a woman comes up and asks him politely. Her nametag says that her name is Wendy. 

"I was just going to look up the bluepapers on those new bots they've made," he says. "I should be able to see them, but I'm just getting this." And he waves to the rejection taking up the entire screen. 

"There have been some changes, sir," Wendy says apologetically. "No one besides the scientists--and Mister Kane, of course-- gets to look at those. You don't _need_ to look at those bluepapers, do you? It's not as if you'd be able to really read them anyways," she says with a pointed look at his Commander uniform. Commanders are for making decisions on the field, not for building bots. 

"I just want to know their general weaknesses and strengths, so I can place them optimally on the field," Mike lies. 

"I'm sorry," she says this firmly rather than apologetically. "But we just can't tell you that any longer, sir. There have been changes. You'll just have to accept that your strategies will become a little cruder in exchange for safety." 

"Safety?" Mike asks. 

"Haven't you heard?" she asks. "You have the clearing to know this, at least." 

"... I haven't checked my inbox yet." This is the truth. He's been kind of distracted lately, to put it mildly. ( _"I want to help,"_ _Chuck said_. Mike loves him, he loves him, and he can't stop.) 

"There's a traitor high up in the combat sector. Whoever they are, they're feeding information to Motorcity. We'll have to make your job a little harder to make _their_ job a lot harder, sir. Our apologies." 

"Right," Mike says numbly. Well-- they had been pretty brazen. He just hadn't thought they'd be figured out so soon. Well, they haven't _really_ been figured out. There are a lot of people in the combat sector. There's nothing to hint that it's Mike--much less Julie--specifically. A thought occurs to him. "Will this affect any of our future plans?" 

"Oh, absolutely," Wendy answers him. "Everything's been cancelled, sir. Spontaneous plans of action only, from now on. You really should get around to opening your inbox, you're a Commander, you know," she says this last bit in a mildly scolding sort of way. 

Mike agrees and says goodbye and thanks for all the help, ma'am. Pressing the issue will only serve to make him look suspicious. 

 _No one besides the scientists--and Mister Kane, of course-- gets to look at those_ , he thinks. 

* * *

"Any luck?" Julie asks Mike as soon he gets back. She's been sipping on a protein smoothie while sitting on a bench, idly texting Claire back and forth. She doesn't really feel up to outright, properly talking with her at the moment. Just one extra layer between them helps. 

"No," Mike says after quickly looking around, sitting pressed up against her and speaking in a low voice. It's fine, they're engaged. It doesn't look strange. "They already know it's someone in combat with at least my clearance level. All of those future plans we sent them have been scrapped, and the scientists are already churning out new kinds of bots that our 'friends' don't know everything about. And they won't be learning anything about them any time soon either, bots or plans of attack, at least not from me; Commanders aren't privvy to that sort of information any longer, at least not in time for us to actually get it to them in time." 

... Well, that certainly wasn't anything Julie would call 'luck'. 

"Ah," she says, for lack of a better idea. She thinks hard about what he said for a moment, and he lets her. "... Did you mean anything by the 'at least not from me' comment?" 

Mike squirms a little in his seat. "I did, actually. I... I told Chuck. About everything." 

Julie pauses. "Decided that he could take it, did you?" _Or could you just not take not telling him any longer,_ she doesn't say. 

"Yeah," Mike says, but he sounds guilty. "Look, it's just us two and Chuck and Claire that know, right? You've known Claire since you were a kid, and it's the same with me and Chuck. We're safe." 

Julie feels a flare of guilt inside of her at him bringing up Claire, and she wonders if it it was intentional. This isn't the same thing though, even if it might _feel_ like it. She hadn't known about the things Mike would say when she brought him to Claire's. Chuck knowing about them was clearly a much more intentional sort of thing. But the thought that she would have probably told Claire afterwards anyways if she hadn't been there to hear about it firsthand herself stops her from feeling entirely guiltless. She's always told everything to Claire. 

But she doesn't know if Mike is right to trust Chuck as much as he does. She doesn't know if Chuck is the same to him as Claire is to her. (And if he is, where do the similiarities end? How close are they? She shucks off the uncomfortable, unhelpful thoughts.) 

"And he can help us," Mike goes on. "He wants to help us. And," his voice drops to an even quieter volume, " _he_ still has access to the bluepapers to the newest bots." 

Julie suddenly feels much more inclined to trust this Chuck guy. 

 


	14. Showing your fiance your favorite place!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck steals some schematics and Julie introduces Mike to Texas.

The USB chip is burning a hole in Chuck's pocket. He's broken the law on literally his first day on the job. Holy shit. 

He has to tell someone. He absolutely can't tell someone. He has to--Mike, Dutch, who should--of course he should tell Mike that he went through with it, that's the safest-- 

In that moment, Dutch calls Chuck. Chuck only screams a little. 

"Whoa, sorry for startling you there," he says. Chuck wheezes at him, which Dutch clearly interpretes as a "It's okay." 

"What's up?" Dutch asks. A social call. Yeah, of course, why would it be anything else? It's not like they're law-breaking spy criminals or anything, ha-- 

Law-breaking criminals. Chuck looks at Dutch and thinks about the drawings he gave him. 

"I," Chuck starts, and then clears his throat after it comes out kind of strangled. "I, uh, did something..." He has to be careful with his words. KaneCo doesn't monitor all holo conversations because they simply don't have the time or manpower, although they claim that it's really due to them respecting their citizens privacy. What they _do_ have is some sort of program looking for certain keywords. It's not such a large leap of logic to make, plus Chuck has actually seen it while he was poking around with his implants coding. What? Okay, he knew it wasn't exactly legal, but the rules didn't say anything about looking so long as he didn't tamper, and he wanted to know what was inside his body. 

Chuck can think of more than a few words that he'd have to actually say to properly explain his situation that he definitely, definitely shouldn't say over hologram. 

"... Yeah?" Dutch raises an eyebrow at Chuck's silence. 

Chuck probably shouldn't tell him. But. Those drawings. He _gave_ them to him. It had felt like someone handing over their self-destruct button. _'Here, you can destroy me with this, but I trust that you won't.'_

It made Chuck want to hand over a self-destruct button in return. 

"I want to talk about it with you in private," he says. 

* * *

It's breathtaking. 

Mike had gone down into Motorcity before, on missions. But that had always been on the fringes, where almost no one seemed to live. Eating away at the edges of their territory, forcing them further and further inwards, trapped like rats. 

Kane's words. 

But they're in the center now, and Mike would just be standing and staring there if it weren't for the fact that Julie's holding onto his hand while expertly weaving around the crowd towards their destination. There's _color_. But it's not just dingy grey and brown everywhere like he's seen before, Mike sees a building painted an eyesearing orange, a woman with hair so green Mike's never seen it in anyone's eyes before, a man with red drawings on his _face_ , and everyone's wearing clothes with colors he's never seen in anyone's eyes or hair before. There's even colors girls aren't allowed to have their makeup be. Shades of blue he didn't know existed. 

Mike breathes deeply through his nose again. The smell's so strong and heady and _there_ that he just can't stop thinking about it. It smells like... he doesn't even know. But it's intense, and seems to change every few blocks they walk, staying intense but changing into something distinctly different every time. This entire town smells, but not in a bad way. Mostly. He thinks he'd have to live down here for weeks before the smell stopped registering, and maybe it wouldn't entirely even then. 

 _Living down here_ , Mike thinks and shivers for some reason. 

Mike's looking at a drawing that's covering an entire building face, like a gigantic toddler came and sat down with their paints. He knows this one, it's on the tip of his tongue-- 

"Flowers," he remembers. Dirty weeds that should be reported. Someone's gone through the pains of painting so many different kinds, in such fine detail, on such a huge scale on this wall, and it's of forbidden weeds. Mike had smelled one once, before he reported it. He still remembers the scent. 

The colors on one of the flowers seamlessly melds into another, and they're all tangled up together in a beautiful spiral-y way-- 

"There he is," Julie says, and her pulling hand on his grows a little stronger as she heads in a definite direction. He barely hears her, it's so _noisy_ here, people laughing and singing and playing instruments he hasn't seen since he was a child and some he's never seen at all, even more people shouting and screaming but not in a panicky way, just to be heard over all of the noise, creating more in the process. Mike kind of wants to scream as loud as he can just because he thinks he could get away with it, because he doesn't think anyone would even bother looking at him for longer than a couple of seconds or remember him, much less report him. He swallows the urge down. Everything's so overwhelming. 

Mike bumps into Julie's back as she stops and taps a short guy on his shoulder. He turns around and grins at them. Night-black bodysuit covered in blood-red flames, plus a black cap and boots. Slicked back, black hair, buck teeth that probably would have been nipped in the bud when he was a child if he'd grown up in Deluxe. Buff as heck. Mike wants to spar him. Mike wants to do many things here, it seems like there's so much to _do_. 

"Jade!" the guy shouts, his voice carrying clearly even in the casual roar of the crowd. 

"It's Julie!" Julie replies without pause. 

"It's Texas!" he responds. 

"Could we go somewhere a little more private?" she asks. 

"Want Texas all for yourself, eh?" he teases, and turns around. They follow. 

They keep walking, and the crowd and the resulting noise slowly trickle away, until they're standing all alone in a dark street, spots of chaotic color painted on the walls here and there, the distant roar of the crowd still audible, like a distant, howling wind. 

"Hi," Mike says, because it's kind of rude that he hasn't introduced himself yet. "I'm Mike." 

Texas has a _crushing_ handshake, but from his bright grin Mike doesn't think he actually means it maliciously. 

"We just came to tell you that all of those plans we gave you and Jacob and the others have been trashed by Kane now. Not the bot bluepapers, but the future attacks. Although he _is_ already making new bots whose schematics we won't be able to get as easily, but we're working on it." 

Texas brightens. "So your boyfriend is a super spy too!" 

Mike feels himself blush. Well, they _are_ still holding hands. It had been mainly to keep from losing each other in the crowd, but they left the crowd a while ago, so that's excuse gone now. And, well, they _are_ dating. Sorta. Technically. 

"Er, yes. Texas, please repeat what I just said to you." Julie seems to cope with embarrassment by transparently changing the topic of conversation. Mike can appreciate that. 

Texas rattles off what Julie told him, a little simplified, but he still gets the message across. Julie seems satisfied. 

"So," Texas says, and waggles his eyebrows at them. "You guys wanna' go?" 

"What?" Mike asks. 

"Into Stronghorn! You guys don't have any super important spy things to give to me, which means that the reason you came down here instead of just calling me was because you guys wanted daddy Texas to take you for a spin in his baby," Texas finishes confidently. Mike can barely understand what he's saying. "You must have told your boyfriend all about me and Stronghorn! Don't worry, the seats are big, you'll both fit."

"What's a Stronghorn?" Mike asks, and Texas snorts like he's just told a joke. 

Mike looks at Julie while Texas grabs them both by their wrists and leads them away to 'Stronghorn', whatever that is. " _Why_ did _we come down here intead of just calling him?_ " he whispers to her. 

Julie looks a little bit guilty. " _I just wanted to show you Motorcity. It must feel weird fighting for a place you barely know anything about, and only the bad things at that. Sorry for the... you know, scheme-iness of it all._ " 

Mike smiles at her. It was nice of her to think of him like that. He doesn't get the chance to verbalize that though, because they finally arrive at what Mike thinks is Stronghorn. 

It's a metal monster, covered in night-black and blood-red flames, like what Texas would look like if he was unauthorized machine. 

"What does it do?" he asks, staring at it. 

Texas opens what turns out to be a door, and waves him and Julie in. "Texas is gonna' show you!" 

Julie kind of has to sit in his lap to fit, which is embarrassing in a weirdly nice way, but Mike forgets all about it when Texas turns the machine on. It _roars_. Texas pats the machine and laughs, pulls some kind of lever, and then Mike's stomach is swooping, colors are blurring, and Julie is screaming delightedly right into his ear. Mike screams with her, and laughs and woops along with Texas. 

Mike falls in love with Motorcity. 


	15. Meeting your SO's roommate and chatting about things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck tells Dutch about Motorcity and what he's done for it and Mike meets Dutch.

"--and there was this other huge painting that wrapped all the way around this house, and I don't think they even eat throatcubes down here, which is kind of obvious now that I think about it--" 

A screen pops up, asking him if he wants to allow one Dutch Gordy access to his pod. He presses accept. 

"Er, sorry, Mikey, this all sounds great and I want to hear all about it when you come back, but Dutch is visiting." 

"Oh! Right, sorry!" Mike looks off towards somewhere off the screen and smiles in a large, genuine way that hasn't happened so much lately. It's nice. Chuck can hear a strange squealing, roaring sound from Mike's side, and a voice that sounds like Julie, except way more ecstatic than he's ever heard it. 

"My turn!" Mike says, and the screen winks out just in time for Dutch to miss it as he opens Chuck's door. 

"Hey there," Dutch says, giving him a curious, cautious look. Chuck worries the USB stick in his pocket with his hand, turning it over and over. 

"Hi," he replies. 

"What is it that you wanted to tell me?" Dutch asks, stopping after walking only a few feet inside the room. Chuck scoots over to one side, hoping that Dutch will get the message. He doesn't want to be sitting down while Dutch is standing for this, it seems weird. Dutch sits down next to him, and Chuck relaxes a little bit. A truly miniscule amount. Why is he telling Dutch about this? This is a terrible idea. He should have asked Mike for permission first, god, he's a terrible friend. 

Chuck decides to just not mention Mike at all, which is the usual modus operandi for when he's talking to Dutch. 

"Iiii," Chuck tries. Dutch raises an eyebrow in a kind of impatient way, something he's pretty good at. Why can't he just cover his eyebrows up like Mike? "Broke... the law." 

That's a start, he guesses. 

Dutch raises both of his eyebrows now, and it doesn't look impatient any longer. "You what?" 

"Yeah," Chuck says with an explosive sigh, sagging when he sits. "I'm feeding Motorcity secrets about Deluxe. _Please don't tell anyone_ ," he can't help but desperately add. He really hopes that his nervous thoughts about KaneCo bugging all of the pods in Deluxe are just his paranoia talking. 

Dutch looks absolutely shocked. And then he bursts out into laughter. 

"Hey!" Chuck shouts and glares at him. "It's not a joke!" 

"I--I know! It's just! You're the last person I'd-- oh my god, I'm so sorry." Dutch does not stop laughing despite his breathless apologies. Chuck grumbles, but decides not to shout at him anymore considering that his laughter sounds kind of hysterical. 

"Okay, okay, I'm good, I'm good. Why," he takes a moment to breathe, "why are you feeding Motorcity secrets about Deluxe?" 

 _Because Mike's fighting for them now_ , he doesn't say. That would kind of go against his whole 'do not mention Mike at all' resolution from earlier. 

Chuck thinks about what Mike had told him about Motorcity. 

"... Did you know that it's allowed to paint wherever you want in Motorcity?" 

Dutch looks abruptly, intensely interested. 

* * *

Dutch asks Chuck about everything he knows about Motorcity. It sounds incredible, and he feels an urge to go down there and see it all for himself that he knows is only going to grow with time. Chuck assures him that his sources can be trusted. He will not name his sources. That kinda' pisses him off, but fine, fair, he supposes. He trusts Chuck. 

"You know those people who don't get matched up with the people they're dating?" Chuck asks. Dutch turns his head just a bit so he can see his face better, not that it does not much. Damn all of that hair. They're both lying down on Chuck's bed by now; they've talked for hours. 

"Yeah?" Dutch replies. He knows _of_ them, at least. Again, his parents had been happily approved by the Deparment of Marriage, and he doesn't really have any friends. At least he has Chuck, now. It's nice. 

"Kind of sad, isn't it?" Chuck says in a cautious sort of way. 

Dutch blinks. He wonders why Chuck brought this up, and actually spends a moment to think about his answer. "The algorithms make sure that you're matched up perfectly though, right? If you don't end up with the person you're dating, it's for a reason." 

"... Yeah," Chuck says, and now he sounds dissapointed. Dutch turns more fully towards him, trying to get a read on his damn face. "So, I'm guessing that you weren't dating someone when we were matched up, then." 

"No," Dutch answers slowly, gears turning in his head. "Were _you_ \--?" 

He's interrupted by the door wooshing open. Abruptly aware of how intimate their current position actually is, Dutch downright falls out of the bed as he tries to scramble into something a little more dignified. 

"Uh, hey there," the upside down man says to him. Dutch can tell that he's absurdly handsome without even having to look at him the right side up. 

"Mikey! You're back!" 

"Yeah," 'Mikey' looks down on Dutch, and then reaches a hand out to help him up. Dutch takes it while kind of wanting to die inside. "I kind of lost track of time down there. On my mission." 

"Right, on your mission, because you're a Commander." Chuck laughs nervously. What the fuck was that about? 

"I was just leaving," Dutch decides. 

"Oh, okay!" Chuck says, sounding kind of insultingly relieved. 

Handsome Man reaches a hand out to shake. Dutch shakes it. 

"Mike Chilton," he says, and the name rings a bell in Dutch's head. ( _"The youngest Commander_ ever _," Dar said, stars in his eyes._ ) 

"Dutch Gordy," he replies, and tries to meet the firm strength of Chilton's handshake. 

"It was nice meeting you," he says around a smile, and god, even his smile's perfect, his handshake perfectly firm, his voice, his face-- 

"You too," Dutch forces himself to say. 

Dutch shoots Chuck a nod and leaves. When he looks over his shoulder a last time, neither of them are looking at him. Chuck's pressing something into Mike's hand. 

Dutch goes home. 

 


	16. Staying faithful is every citizen's duty! Only deviants CHEAT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julie and Texas have an exchange, a ride, and a talk. Julie relays new information to Mike.

"I told you we'd take care of it," she says, giving the USB stick to Texas. Chuck really had come through for them. He'd committed, he couldn't back out now. Julie felt a part of her relax at that knowledge, at the fact that everyone who knew her secret, who knew _their_ secret, was someone she could trust, if only because they had to protect themselves. The thought of her father finding out and confronting her or Mike or Claire (or, absurdly but not in the dreams, Texas) about it is something she's had nightmares about. 

"Never said you wouldn't," Texas says, and zips shut one of the pockets on his suit, the USB stick safe inside. Jacob will take care of it. 

Julie brushes a lock of her hair behind her ear. She'd had to come down here in the flesh and all, to deliver the USB stick, and it seems a shame to go back up to Deluxe straight away once she's down here. Never mind that she'd spent hours down here only a few days ago, it seems like she can only stand shorter and shorter time spans between each visit as time goes on. 

"Want to take me driving again?" Julie asks, and isn't surprised when Texas bursts out into a braggy speech that essentially translates to "hell yes." 

He showily slides over Stronghorn's front on his way to his front seat just to get there a second faster, and while she rolls her eyes she can't help but run a little bit on her way to the passenger seat. It turns out that driving is _fun_. She should have accepted Texas' offer of a ride ages ago. 

She's strapped herself in by the time Texas is revving the engine, and Julie makes a note to herself to get faster at it. 

He takes off like a shot, and Julie can just barely restrain her joyful screams this time. She's getting used to it, really. 

They're entirely on the other side of town by the time Texas slows down (which he doesn't do slowly at all, letting them screech in a chaotic spiral to a halt, tire marks and flung up dust and squealing rubber left in their wake), and Julie doesn't even care about the breathless laugh that escapes her when Texas helps her up out of her seat. She stumbles against him just a bit, hand feeling the shape of the USB stick in the pocket on his chest. She looks up at his face. She doesn't have to look up that far. While Julie is used to looking up at people, being extraordinarily short, Texas is one of the shortest guys she knows, which she quite frankly appreciates, even if he's still taller than her. And he's. Close. 

"Um," she says. 

Texas retreats some, face reddening, tugging his cap a little lower over his face. He probably just only then noticed the distinct lack of appropriate space between them, like Julie had. He knows about Mike (doesn't know about Claire, but she doesn't factor into that any longer, thanks to her father), and Texas is a decent guy, not even that far underneath all of the bluster. Texas wouldn't--

"Sorry," he says. "I thought--" and his voice drops to a mumble that she can't make out, which is a first. Texas is always loud. This feels wrong. 

"Thought what?" Julie asks, and she honestly has no idea what his answer will be, what she wants it to be. He'd done that on _purpose_? He'd been intending to-- to kiss her!? 

Texas flushes harder, and why does she feel so sorry for him suddenly? 

"I'm not going to cheat on Mike," she says, and then she thinks _why not_? They're already breaking the law in secret, what's a little agreed upon affair between the two of them? She could be with Claire again. Why hasn't she thought of this before? _Because I think Mike might actually like me. Because I think I might actually like Mike back. Because Claire doesn't deserve to be a secret, to be made to lie to_ her _spouse, to be put in danger like that._

That's why. 

"What?" Texas asks, seemingly distracted from his embarrassment by what she'd said. 

" _What_?" she parrots him, but much more offended. "Do I-- do I just look like the kind of girl who'd cheat on her fiance without hesitation!?" Her eyes are stinging, which she hates. She doesn't want to cry right now. She'd thought Texas had been her friend. The first friend she'd made without her father vetting anyone before hand, like it was a job interview. 

Can she even make friends on her own? 

Texas raises his hands placatingly, visibly upset again. "I didn't think it was cheating! Texas is sorry, he didn't know you and the little guy weren't interested in other people." 

Julie sniffles, much to her self-disgust. "What?" 

"That you were, you know, monogamous." 

"Mono-what?" 

* * *

Julie comes back to his pod (Chuck out working late at the lab) several hours later than is necesary just to deliver the new bot information, and Mike tries not to be too jealous. She'd probably gotten Texas to drive her around again. Cars are _amazing_. He would've gone down with her, but work didn't allow it. All of the Commanders had had to have a long meeting about the new rules and changes, even though the message he'd received had explained the whole situation pretty well and only in a few paragraphs. It would admittedly make planning for and executing battles much harder and much more stressful, but he'd grasped that pretty quickly. 

"Hey," he greets her, turning away from the dumb little holo game he'd been playing. Before the rule changes there had always seemed to be more work to do, but now it was more like there was suddenly a _mountain_ of work to do that needed to be done _immediately_ , and then in the spaces in between there was nothing much more to do except to keep in shape and keep the troops disciplined for when the action would come. Mike supposes he could be fine with this new system if he only had more stuff to do in the times in between frenzied work. 

Julie looks at him blankly and doesn't say hi back. That's kind of worrying. 

"Did everything go okay?" he asks, concerned. 

"... Sorta'?" she finally says, and Mike turns his desk chair fully around to face her properly. 

"Want to talk about it?" he asks, because she's not exactly being forthcoming. He hopes she wants to talk about it. He wants to help. 

"I should," Julie says, and sighs and sits down on the edge of the bed closest to him. 

"That doesn't mean you have to--" 

"I _should_ ," she says firmly. 

He waits. 

"Well," she starts uncertainly. "The good news is, Texas and I are still friends." 

"Did something happen between the two of you?" An argument? 

"Just a misunderstanding." Julie doesn't blush often, but when she does it's pretty easy to see, on account of how pale she is. "I just. There's some new... information."

"A complication?" Mike furrows his brows. 

Julie's eyes dart to him, and then away. She huffs. "I'm sorry, I should just come right out and say it, but it sounds so weird. Did you know," she grimaces in an embarrassed sort of way, "that relationships can be different in Motorcity?" 

"Uh," Mike says, but before he can continue Julie beats him to the punch. 

"Sorry, that was vague. What I'm saying is," she blushes more, "that people can date more than one person at a time down there. Can marry more than one person." She looks at his face. "And it's not cheating! Everyone knows about it! Everyone agrees! It's _fine_." She sounds completely astonished. Amazed. 

"It's called polyamory," she says. 

Mike really does love Motorcity. 


	17. Sleepovers with your gal pal and obeying curfew! What obedient citizens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julie and Claire have a talk and as does Mike and Chuck.

Julie hesitates outside of Claire's pod. She and Mike had talked for hours, hashing things out. The day is just on the cusp of curfew. If she goes in there and starts to have a conversation with Claire, she won't have time to go back to her own pod, no matter what the outcome of the conversation is. She'll have to sleepover, like she's done so many times before. 

She hasn't slept over since the match up. Julie asks for permission to come inside. 

A few moments pass. 

ENTRANCE GRANTED 

Of course. Why was she worried? She never used to be worried about being allowed entrance. She wants this doubt to end right now, tonight. One way or the other. 

She enters. 

"Hey Julie," Claire calls out. "What're you coming over so late for?" 

She wouldn't have asked that before. Just assumed that Julie felt like having a sleepover. 

"I've been a bad girlfriend," Julie says, low. 

Claire enters the hallway where Julie's standing, blinking at her curiously. Her hair's down. It's curly when it's not wet or perfectly styled. Julie loves it like that, she can run her hands through it to her hearts content like this. 

"Sorry, what did you say?" Claire asks in a way that tells Julie that she really didn't hear her. 

"I want to be with you," she says. "I don't want this-- _distance_ between us, like we're fighting. We always make up, eventually."

Claire's frozen where she stands, hand in the middle of tucking a lock behind her ear. She's taken off her makeup for the night. It feels intimate just seeing her like that, because she knows that no one else does. 

"But--" and Julie already knows the arguments that are going to spring from her lips, because she's gone over and over them herself for months now. 

"What's a little more lawbreaking? I've already done things dad would take far more offense to." 

Claire stares at her. She's wearing her pajamas too. Not the ones she wants people to think she wears, but the ones that she's actually comfortable sleeping in, soft and large. 

"Mike's nice," Claire finally manages. It sounds like the words physically pain her. "And you're nice. You don't want to-- this isn't like you." 

"I've talked to Mike. He's fine with this, with us. He wants us to be together, if you'll have me. And," Julie says, because Claire deserves so much, she deserves sacrifices, and Julie's finally going to start making them, "if you want it to be just me and you instead of me and you and him, that's okay. I'll choose you, not him. He's fine with it, and I'd still do it even if he wasn't. I may like him, and I might start loving him someday, but I don't think I'm ever going to love someone more than you." 

Claire's eyes are too shiny, blinking too rapidly. 

" _And_ ," Julie forces herself to go on. "If you don't want it to be me and you at all, that's... your choice." She can't bring herself to say that it's _fine_ , but she'll respect-- 

Claire's thrown her arms around Julie, her curly hair nearly engulfing Julie's vision. 

" _I don't care if you're dating everyone in Deluxe and Motorcity as well!_ " she cries. " _As long as I get my fair share_." 

And then they're kissing each other again for the first time in months.

* * *

Chuck gets let out of the lab too late for comfort. It isn't allowed to keep the scientists working past a time that it's theoretically possible for all of them to get to their homes before curfew, but just on the edge of "theoretically possible" is cutting it a bit too close in Chuck's opinion. 

He runs back home and arrives, short of breath, the curfew an unsettlingly small amount of time away. 

"Chuckles?" Mike calls out. 

"Hey, Mikey," he calls back, toeing out of his shoes. 

Mike appears in the doorway, apparently deciding not to just wait for him. He smiles at Chuck nervously, and Chuck is instantly wary where before he'd just been relieved to be back home and rattled by the close call. 

"What's up?" he asks, trying to hide just how much he really wants to know the answer to that question. What could be wrong? Had Mike slipped up, were the people who were looking for the spy looking in his direction? (Was he going to tell Chuck that he was moving in with Julie now even though they could have months more with each other, that it'd been strange that he'd waited so long to do it anyways?)  

"I, uh," Mike rubs the back of his neck. "Just wanted to talk about something with you." He winces; Chuck's told him that he hates that phrase, and indeed, it feels like his gut is sinking down into his toes. "Not that it's anything bad! Um, I think. I'm not mad at you, anyways. Although you might get mad at me." 

Something that's gonna' make Chuck mad at Mike? (He's moving out, he's leaving.) 

Chuck doesn't say anything. He doesn't think he can right now, he doesn't want to hear what Mike's about to say, he won't be able to snatch the words back. 

Mike keeps talking anyways, the jerk. "Me and Julie talked," pause for deep breath, and fuck, here it comes, "and she said that it was okay if I... we agreed that I should ask you if you still want to be with me." 

What? 

"What?" Chuck asks. He can't even begin to puzzle out what that's supposed to mean. 

"Like, in a sharing kind of way?" Mike proposes very uncertainly. "As in, I'm with Julie and she's also with her friend Claire and I think also Texas maybe? And I'm with you too, and you're still with Dutch, although if you don't like him maybe you shouldn't be with him at all even if KaneCo says you should, but if you like him then hey, great!" He says this all in a great big rush, and then takes a big breath afterwards like it winded him. Chuck can see a fierce blush just barely hiding underneath his tan cheeks. 

"Sharing, as in...?" he says, his voice so dry it feels like that one time he got so caught up in his homework for two days straight while Mike was off on a mission that he just plain forgot to drink any water for about forty-eight hours. He doesn't want to presume. He doesn't want to make himself look like a desperate, gross idiot in front of Mike of all people. 

He wants Mike to say what he says next. "Like. Kissing. Everyone kissing the people they want to kiss that want them to kiss them back. Dating and," his voice dwindles into a tiny thing, " _stuff_." He is not even close to meeting Chuck's eyes at the moment. 

"That," Chuck somehow manages to say, he kind of amazes himself sometimes, "sure is an idea. 

 _I get to keep you_ , he thinks. 


	18. Confessing your love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch and Chuck have a chat.

Dutch's mind wanders back to Chuck again as he does the mindless work of turning a wrench, building a relatively simple bot to turn in as an Education project. 

His mind has been wandering towards Chuck a lot lately. Before that as well, but in, like, a happier more lovestruck fool sort of way. Now whenever he thinks about Chuck he also swiftly starts thinking about Chilton. First name Roommate-whose-gotta-be-super-close-to-Chuck-to-be-roommating-with-him-in-the-first-place middle name Why-does-Chuck-never-talk-about-him-to-me-then last name Also-ridiculously-stupidly-unfairly- _hot_. 

Nickname: He-obviously-used-to-date-him. 

Dutch isn't a _total idiot_ , okay? He might actually kinda' be considered something of a technological genius, if his grades are any indication. Although interpersonal relationships don't exactly fall under the 'technological problems that can be solved with minor frustrated hairpulling' umbrella. It just. It'd been kinda' _obvious_ is all, from that sad tone his voice dropped into when he talked about the Deparment of Marriage making the decisions. From the way he'd lit up for a split second when Chilton had showed up before the situation caught up with his lightning quick mind and he got all flustered. Stuff connected, stray moments and words made sense. 

Before he'd met Chilton and connected the pieces, he'd actually been kind of grateful about the match up. He'd perhaps for the first time appreciated those in charge interfering with his life. Something they'd decided was finally going okay for him. More than okay. Maybe he was wrong about KaneCo, he'd thought. Maybe he just needed to cooperate more, and then he'd be as happy as he is with Chuck the rest of the time as well. 

Well, the other shoe's dropped, and Dutch knows better now than to trust KaneCo like that again. Every time they've told him to do or don't do something it's ended badly for him. Hell, they're wrong about art, so why _shouldn't_ they be wrong about marriage too? Because there's no way that making art is wrong. Dutch knows that to the core of him, every time he makes something. 

Deluxe is wrong. It doesn't make the right decisions for people. It just likes to make decisions. 

The questions is: what's he going to do about it? 

Before he can fall back into that well worn by now rut in his mind of a train of thought, Chuck calls him. 

* * *

Chuck paces the span of his and Mike's room. He's got long legs and it isn't an especially large room, so it's a short walk and a lot of turning. At least Mike's not around so that Chuck can accidentally elbow him in the face or something. Or make him nervous with just his presence. (Or calm him down.) 

It's for the best if Mike isn't around for this discussion! Probably. The thought of him seeing Chuck get rejected immediately is kind of extra humiliating. Although he'd be able to help if Dutch decided to punch him. No, no, Chuck can take care of it, it's not like Dutch is a cadet either. 

Also, they get along. He probably won't try to punch Chuck. 

Probably. 

Chuck only tugs at his hair a little before Mike's regular gentle scolding about it reminds him to let his hands go and just start wringing them instead. He tries to do those deep, slow breaths he's supposed to do, because he can swear to god he feels a panic attack coming on. There is no way this conversation is going to end well. Absolutely no way. Chuck's going to have to blackmail Dutch with the drawings he gave him in trust so that he won't report him for deviancy and then he's going to hate Chuck forever for betraying him and threatening him and asking him if he can date both him and Mike at the same time and oh god he's already here. 

Chuck groans and lets him in. 

"Hey," Dutch says, and he doesn't make that smile with the dimples that he usually does when he sees Chuck that makes him weak in the knees. Hang on, is Dutch _already_ upset with him? How!? Can Dutch see it on his _face?_

"Uh, hi, hello, nice to meet you I mean see you," Chuck says, and wishes that his hair was long enough to cover the rest of his face as well. And also to choke him to death and bury his corpse. Just, like, a lethal amount of hair to save him from himself. 

Dutch gives him a weird look, which is warranted. "What did you want to tell me that you couldn't over holo? Because the last time you pulled that line you told me that you were a spy for Motorcity." 

"Well, it is kind of illegal, well not just kind of. But not as bad as being a spy! Because I'm pretty sure being caught for being a spy would end in, um, _death_ ," which is definitely not something that keeps Chuck up at night, "what I'm about to ask you would probably just end with a reeducation." 

" _Just_ a reeducation?" Dutch crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. 

"Technically better than dying!" Chuck defends himself poorly. Poor phrasing, he admits. 

"Well, what's this about, then? What illegall shit have you gotten up to again, Chuck." 

"Like you can judge," Chuck retorts, but Dutch doesn't even have to make a comeback in response to that, just give him an expression that basically screams ' _really_?' Sneaking attack bot bluepapers to Motorcity is admittedly maybe not quite on the same level as making some unsanctioned drawings. "Okay, so." Deep breath in, slow breath out, one two three, one two three. He is _probably_ not going to punch him, Chuck forcibly reminds himself. 

"You know how things are... _different_ in Motorcity?" 

"Motorcity and Deluxe are different, got it." 

Chuck shoots Dutch a quick glare for that one just because he's stressed and he's not in the mood for sass right now, but he doesn't think Dutch saw it anyways. "Like, there's more _choices_ for people there, there's so much different stuff, nothing's got to be the same. There are... a lot of different ways to live, and it isn't bad. It's just more choices." 

Something in Dutch's expression softens. "People can make their own decisions there." 

"Uh, yeah." Another deep breath, Chuck feels lightheaded. "And, um, apparently it's a thing down there that you can just... choose to define things differently for yourself. Like, say if someone decided to date two different people at the same time. All of those three people could get together and agree that to them that isn't cheating. They could even agree that they'd be cool with any of the other two kissing whoever they wanted, and they wouldn't be cheating, because they decided that it wouldn't be. It'd just be..." Chuck swallows dryly, "love." 

There is a long moment of silence while Chuck tries really, really hard to read Dutch's face and also not beg him to just say something already. 

"You love me?" Dutch asks blankly. 

"Yes," Chuck answers without thinking, because that's the correct answer. Two plus two is four, and he loves Dutch. "And Mike," he adds, in case Dutch didn't get that part. Chuck sucks. Chuck is going to get punched in the face. 

"Man," Dutch says, and his voice finally clues him in on what Dutch's face is doing: awe. "I didn't even think it was possible to be in love with more than one person at a time. And I'm one of them." 

"... That's a way better reaction than I was expecting," Chuck says, and then breaks out into this ugly kind of hysterical sob-laughter. 


	19. And they lived happily ever after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They call them the Burners.

"Deluxe is a whack place," Texas says after Julie explains herself, which is the first time she's heard someone use that word unironically. Sounds like something Mike would say. 

"Yeah, it kind of is," she agrees, and tentatively sits down next to him on Stronghorn's hood. No protests. She relaxes by a miniscular degree. "I'm sorry for the way I reacted. It was... a big misunderstanding." 

"Chyeah, whatever," Texas shrugs, which is a pretty lukewarm reaction coming from him. Concern keeps tugging at her. 

"Are we cool?" she asks. Being straightforward is best with Texas, even if that felt painfully blunt. 

"Cooler than Kane's snow cone machine." What he meant was her dad's _blizzard_ machine, which had nearly destroyed Motorcity some months ago, if it hadn't been for the fact that some guy going by 'the Duke of Detroit' had decided that he was sick of making incredibly detailed snow scupltures of his own face and had the machine destroyed. And then remade into an infinite snowcone machine. She has no idea how, and neither does her father still, judging by how many fist sized holes there ended up in his walls that day. 

Julie resists the urge to bite her lip because she knows it'll smudge her lipstick. Musters her courage. Come on. She's a spy. She can do this. She's dating two incredibly hot and amazing people. Hopefully three by the end of this conversation. "... Is that kiss still on the table?" 

Texas _dips_ her. 

* * *

Dutch draws for hours, and no guards interrupt him. He draws plants, which is like art that freaking nature makes on its own. He draws vines framing the parts of Kanebot mark VII, wisterias bursting forth from the essential ports in the back, roses clogging up every gun it can pull up from underneath its chassis. Instructions, weaknesses. 

"Woah," a girl breathes behind him in admiration, not indignant shock. He looks behind him: tan skin, freckles, pigtails, huge googles. Ridiculously cute face. "Did you make that?" 

It doesn't matter if she means the bot or the mural that spans the entire length of the wall in front of him; the answer is the same. 

"Yeah," Dutch says, and it's not a confession made under pressure, but instead a bit of a proud brag. "Yeah, I did." 

* * *

"So we have an agreement?" Beatrice asks her. Claire wants to just call her Bea or something, but she'd been very prissily corrected when she'd tried that, so. Beatrice it is. Even if it's _such_ a grandma name. 

"Yeah," she says, and reaches out to shake Beatrice's hand, since she's holding it out and all that. God, it's like she's doing a job interview. "How long should we say we've been dating again?" 

"I'm thinking since Month One of this year; I'm sure we'll be approved. I've run the numbers myself, and on paper we look like an excellent match." 

"Well if I didn't think that the system was broken _before_ ," Claire says with a friendly snort. Beatrice gives her a very dry look. She supposes that that could've very easily been taken as an insult. 

"Yes," Beatrice agrees. And then she seems to soften by a very, very small degree. Claire may or may not have imagined it. "Who are you really with?" 

"... Her name's Julie. She's the best." 

Beatrice smiles for the first time since Claire's met her. "Mine's called Wendy. She's the worst." 

She says this with a mountain of affection. 

* * *

"What do you mean," Kane says flatly, trying to rub a pounding headache out of his cranium with his hand on his brow, "that there are _more spies_." 

The mouse of a secretary tries to hide behind her clipboard. "I'm sorry," she apologizes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But unless this is the work of just one spy who somehow has access to four different deparments--"

"No one but me has that much access," Kane snarls. No wonder she's just a secretary. 

"Yes, sir! But, well, that means that there's more than one spy. There's at least four of them. Sir." She seems to wilt where she stands under his glare. 

"That's practically the beginings of an organization!" 

"They, um, data indicates that they are probably working together, yes sir. We should probably put in more safeguards" 

Cripple and weaken themselves even more, she means. The headache is rearing back its ugly head with a vengance. "I'm going to hunt down each and every one of those damn rats," he hisses, standing up so quickly that his chair falls back and spots appear before his eyes, the secretary squeaking and backing up, " _and BURN them to a crisp!_ " 

* * *

"Did you hear," Julie says after kissing him good morning, "that they've started calling us the Burners?" 

Mike smiles. "I think I like the sound of that." 

She kisses him again and slips out of bed. "So, I'm guessing you'll be sleeping with Chuck tonight?" 

"Yeah," he says, and sits up reluctantly as well. The bed had been nice and warm, but work was calling. Mike _likes_ work. And the bed hadn't been half as nice and warm without Julie in it with him anyways. "Do you think it'll keep being so easy to trade bed between us all like this when we're married?" 

Julie shoots him a smirk over her shoulder as she puts on clothes. Nice view. "What's so wrong with best friends sleeping over with each other on occasion?" She stretches in an entirely unnecesary way as she clips on her bra, aware of him looking. "It's completely innocent, after all." 

She gives him a last kiss that seems to burn in the greatest way possible before she leaves. _Burners_ , he thinks to himself. Yeah, he definitely likes it. 

* * *

"It's really nice to finally meet you," Dutch tells Jacob distractedly, Mike dreamily nodding along in agreement, all awkwardness between them from only moments ago forgotten. Julie had insisted they bring Dutch along with them since he was already going down to paint and she wanted as many members from their gang (they're a _gang_ ) as possible to know where their main contact lives. It definitely was not because she wanted Dutch and Mike to talk business with Jacob while she was off fussing over Texas, who was perhaps the worst patient to ever exist. He kept insisting that he could just karate chop the germs away. 

"Uh huh," Jacob says. 

"Really, you've done so much to help us..." Mike concurs, trailing off without noticing. 

Mike is not even pretending to be vaguely looking in Jacob's direction, and Dutch isn't doing much better, but he swears he can hear Jacob roll his eyes from where he's standing. 

"You kids into cars, huh?" Jacob asks. He'd been in the middle of doing some work on his monster of an engine when the three of them had walked in. Julie had dissapeared almost immediately to Texas' room however to feed him chicken soup and tissues or whatever, stopping only to hand over another USB stick to Jacob. (They've had to resort to start stealing them from office supplies storage rooms at this point, they're burning through the darn things so fast.) 

"Kinda," Mike says, remembering the rides Texas has taken him on. 

"What are cars," Dutch says while staring in wonder at one. 

" _Boy_ ," Jacob says, sounding mortally offended. Then he goes off on an hour long lecture on what exactly a car is, and Dutch vows to build one, and he's gonna cover the entire thing in his art from top to bottom when he's finished as well, apparently. Mike refuses to be outdone, and Dutch demands to get to paint his car when its done as well. Mike tells him his favorite color is green. 

And he's gonna' call it Mutt. 

* * *

 "... and I will stay faithful..." Julie repeats her father's words along with Mike and hundreds of other Deluxians. She knows that Chuck and Dutch's voices are ringing out along with her somewhere, but she can't pick them out from the drone of hundreds of voices joined in unision. 

"And I will stay loyal," her father booms. 

"... and I will stay loyal..." they all parrot him obediently. 

"To Deluxe and my spouse." Putting Deluxe before the spouse. Classy. 

In the ensuing crash of noise that is hundreds of people saying the exact same thing at the exact same time, no one could possibly notice a few voices saying something a little different. 

"To Motorcity and my spouses," they whisper. 

"You may now kiss your spouse." 

They do. 

* * *

The Wedding up in Deluxe had been kind of nice, but also kind of uncomfortable. Mike's feelings about the weddings (no capital W) down in Motorcity are much less complicated. 

There are strangers (he sees Dutch laughing with one of them, a girl in pigtails and goggles) everywhere, dressed in all sorts of colors, and most of them clearly have no idea who they are. But they sensed a party and booze and food, all of which Texas had mysteriously procured even though no one had asked him to, and they had swarmed to the location, a grassy hill with a fantastic view of the city. Actually, how had they even known to come here, of all places? Had Texas taken care of that as well? Well, Mike supposes he doesn't mind. Even though the strangers are, well, strangers, they recognize a festive occasion when they see one, and Texas is taking care of all of the guests that are either getting to handsy or too violent. It's loud, and bright, and _fun_. 

"What should I say!?" he almost has to shout at Jacob, who had jumped up to officiate the ceremony like it was completely natural. 

"Whatever's in your heart, kid!" he shouts back. "We make our own vows in Motorcity!" 

Mike looks away from Jacob back towards Chuck, whose sweaty hands he's holding, meeting and matching his surprised gaze. 

Mike clears his throat. The audience doesn't quiet down an inch. He clears his throat again. 

Jacob gives Texas a Look. 

" _PIPE DOWN_!!!" he roars without hesitation. Mike winces. Darn, but he had one heck of a set of lungs on him. The crowd actually pipes down just a bit. Enough so that Mike thinks he doesn't have to shout 'I LOVE YOU' into Chuck's face, anyways. 

"I'm so happy I got to marry you, like we always wanted, Chuckles," he starts, and the crowd awws. There's so much he wants to say, he doesn't know how to get it all out, but he's gonna' try his best anyways. "It's the best! Seriously! You're the _best_." 

Chuck's as red as Mike's ever seen him. Maybe doing this in front of a huge crowd wasn't the best idea? He'll have to make sure to drag Chuck away somewhere where they can be alone the second they're done, then. Not that that hadn't already been his plan. 

"And I'm really happy I got to marry you in this city! It's awesome!" This gets a _huge_ cheer from the audience. "Some day--" Mike drops his voice just enough so that none of the crowd will be able to hear him. It doesn't take much. "Some day I want to move here with you, and the others, if that's okay. You and me and Jules and Dutch and Texas, and Claire if she wants to. All of us living together." 

The crowd cheers even though they couldn't possibly have heard him. 

"Yeah," Chuck croaks. He coughs and raises his voice. "Same." 

Jacob looks at Chuck expectantly. Chuck looks back. "... Those were my vows!" 

"Oh!" Jacob says, and Mike laughs along with the crowd. He understands. He squeezes Chuck's hands to let him know that. "Well then, you may kiss the groom!" 

"I love you," Mike whispers, drawing close. 

"I love you too," Chuck responds, and then they kiss. Husbands. 

Everyone's too distracted by Julie and Claire getting up on the altar for their turn to notice them slipping away. 

**Author's Note:**

> I DID IT!!!


End file.
